


November 2019 Drabble Set

by orphan_account



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game)
Genre: Angst and Humor, Drabble Collection, Dubious Morality, Gen, M/M, Mentions of War, Mildly Dubious Consent, Snark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-04
Updated: 2019-11-26
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:42:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 16
Words: 1,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21594775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: A hundred reasons why Vernon Roche is a bastard, a whoreson, a sadist, and a desired bed mate.All chapters/drabbles were written for the Dreamwidth Community, 100words. Every Tuesday, a prompt is posted to challenge writers to come up with 100 words of their desired choosing. All prompts with their respected notes and warnings will be posted in each chapter.
Relationships: Foltest/Vernon Roche, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Vernon Roche, Radowid V Srogi | Radovid V the Stern/Vernon Roche
Comments: 2
Kudos: 62
Collections: 100 Words





	1. Feverish

**Author's Note:**

> All prompts were written in the program Scrivener, which doesn't account dashes or ellipses as a character (but does count html). Any discrepancy in drabbles being over/under 100 words is due to how AO3 calculates characters and my preference and loyalty to use Scrivener's word count above all else. So, um. Apologies. All are listed as 100 words on my computer, I swear.
> 
> \---
> 
> Prompt 154: Addict

There was an old saying the whoresons and filthmongers used to say in the dirty Viziman taverns. That soldiers were gluttons for punishment. They loved being yelled at and treated like sod.

He never took it to heart. Who cared what poor drunk beggars said when they were six cups in? Yet, there was a sting of truth to their idiot words. How else would he explain why he did the things he did? The lashes on his skin were permanent reminders of his disobedience. His refusals, and worse.

Teeth marks of the Redanian King stained him.

Gluttony? Or consent?


	2. Vows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 155: Protector

“Do you wish to repeat your vows?” he asked, smirking as he watched Roche’s brows knit together. He was already at his limit, his fingertips white as they dug into the soft flesh of his thighs, but he held it together. Just enough to stutter a response.

“No, I…”

He decided to help, purposely bucking his hips up, just to see Roche’s struggle to not arch and release. His whimper only added to his amusement. “You will be my sword and shield,” he started.

“My Lord-”

“And be the cloth for my blade.”

He moaned before quickly covering his mouth.


	3. Bonded

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 156: Quote IX. _As he read, I fell in love the way you fall asleep: slowly, and then all at once. -- John Green._

Twice he had come inside, his muscles rippling as he did. Roche didn’t move, still suspended in the thick fog that held his brain, and Geralt dropped beside him, rubbing his neck in relief.

“Roche,” Geralt huffed, trying to calm himself, his focus on his breathing and the blood wildly pumping through his veins. “You alright?”

Roche didn’t answer. His eyes were slipping down, the exhaustion of keeping up with a Witcher taking hold, and his body slumped. A small, hot breath escaped him, and Geralt leaned over his frame.

He could see he was tired. Unfortunately, his body wasn’t.


	4. Slip

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 157: Anniversary

It wasn’t often he got an excuse to leave the castle. After all, someone had to listen to the woes of the nobles and their pathetic schemes for favor. Not to mention their whines for him to take up a wife.

Thankfully, he could forget it for an evening, his duties tossed to the council as he slipped down to the barracks. It wasn’t every day that he could tease his loyal Commander.

By the time he arrived, the booze was already flowing and Roche looked ready to stab someone. How amusing.

“Roche,” Foltest called. Vernon went rigid. “Happy Birthday.”


	5. Instinct

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 158: Trust

When her fingers dug into his arms, he instinctively cradled her back. It was foolish, of course. His Queen - His Ruler - shouldn’t act in such a way. However, he understood her fear. How Radovid’s gaze made her go rigid like a mouse by a cat. Two Temerians stuck in the lair of a monster. Helpless.

Her small fingers laced with his, gripping him so tight they turned white, but he didn’t pull away. She was terrified and he was beginning to mistrust his judgment in the Redanian King.

“Anais,” Radovid said, his voice poisonous. “Come here.”

Her shudder was heartbreaking.


	6. Agreement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 159: Spy

“I thought you were special forces,” Geralt said, not bothering to hide his disappointment. It made him click his jaw. “Since when did you deal with spies?”

“Since always,” he muttered. “What do you think Special Forces meant?”

“I assumed it meant you were smarter than to deal with Dijkstra.”

Gods, so did he.

“You’re going to get yourself killed, Roche.”

“I am not,” he said, but his words weren’t convincing. Because Geralt was bloody right. “Thaler, Ves-”

“You dragged Ves into this?!”

It was his turn to hiss. For him to snap back with an icy tone.

“She _agreed_.”


	7. Propaganda

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 161: Word Pair III (Loose/Lose)

Loose tongues lose wars. It was a common motto repeated throughout the army, one even sewn into skin. Any one of them, even their closest comrade, could sell them out to the enemy. Nilfgaard delighted in gossip and rumors and what was exchanged between drunks at taverns and whorehouses.

The penalty for doing so? A trip to Vizima. The capital. Some scoffed at the notion, until they wound up in the dungeons themselves. Chained and naked facing _him_.

He wasn’t cruel out of pleasure; it was a necessity. And split tongues were a small price to pay for Temeria’s stability.


	8. Stress

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 162: Repair

“Why don’t you just get a new one?” Geralt asked, forcing him to pause. He tried hard not to glare at him.

“Do I look like I’m made of money, Witcher?” he snapped, his focus going back to his dagger as his thumb ran over chip once again. He had brought it down a millimeter, but it was still noticeable. A stain not only on his blade, but his honor.

Geralt gave a shrug before he stood. “I can lend you money.”

“I don’t want it!”

“Fine,” he said, exasperated. “But you’re using the whetstone wrong.”

Fucking... “Geralt. Just leave.”


	9. Ruined

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 163: Ruin

He may have pushed him a bit too far.

Roche was strong - physically; somewhat mentally - but it was clear he wasn’t used to being thrown past his limits. There was a threshold he could withstand and despite having delved deep into the depths of death and depravity, his undoing came with simple things. It wasn’t with tongs or knives, nor with threats or beatings. It came from small, focused acts; Teeth against sensitive skin and fingers pushing inside.

He had come once, then twice. Then a third, merciless time. By the end, he was begging.

“Foltest, please-”

He didn’t oblige.


	10. Tamper

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 164: Target

“You’re releasing too early,” Roche pointed out, not bothering to see her reaction as he finished cleaning his tamper. The crack down the side was growing and he ran his thumb over it, his frown increasing. He’d either have to whittle another or find some tar.

Ves was still glaring at him when he looked up. “You wanted my advice,” he reminded her.

“I wanted guidance on adjusting my aim, not my draw.”

“They’re connected.”

“Roc- No, Commander,” she huffed. “Critique my aim. Not anything else.”

He sighed, setting his pipe into the corner of his mouth. “Fine.”

“ _Thank_ you.”


	11. Grind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 165: Content

Geralt shifted again, pressing himself up to the hilt, purposely grinding his hips down as his breath tickled his collarbone. Probably to get him to react in some shameful way. The Witcher really had some stupid obsession with getting him to make obscene noises. But he held back, instead closing his eyes to revel in the feeling. The strange comfort of the shaky bedframe creaking and the sheets woven from plucked delicate cotton.

Geralt began to thrust, breaking the strange contention, and he was forced to act, raising his hips. Meeting him back. Without thinking, he spoke. No.

_He moaned._


	12. Deck

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 166: Entice

Roche wasn’t buying it.

“I don’t care what you bloody offer,” he grumbled as he jammed the worn-down stick further into the fire before them, rolling over half-burned logs and coals. “And if you’re not here for anything important, then kindly fuck off.”

It was his turn to fold his arms. “Just because you’re a sore loser-”

Roche was up in a second. “You have half my damn deck now!”

“-doesn’t mean you have to act like a child.”

Roche tossed down the stick. Violently. “I’m not bloody playing Gwent with you!”

“Just one rematch.”

Roche seethed. “Fuck off, Geralt!”


	13. Sardonic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 167: In The Beginning

“You know, when I first saw you, Geralt. I knew you were going to be a problem,” Roche said, not bothering to look at him as he leaned against the cracking stones, his eyes locked on the minstrels dancing to uneven beats.

He held his tongue, waiting for him to finish. There was always another line with Roche. Either sarcasm or insults. However, Roche’s voice fell. It became soft; Almost humbled. “Yet I am truly glad you’re here.”

He raised a brow. “Are you being serious?”

It took half a second for his anger to surge back.

“Fuck you, Witcher.”


	14. Tormenting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 168: Shakespeare VII
> 
> _The bay-trees in our country are all wither'd  
>  And meteors fright the fixed stars of heaven;  
> The pale-faced moon looks bloody on the earth  
> And lean-look'd prophets whisper fearful change._

Again, he woke in the middle of the night, his heart beating hard with cold sweat on the back of his neck. A quick glance revealed he was not where his dreams had placed him - there were no screams of death nor fields shattered from war. Instead, there was a smoldering fire; shifts and sighs of soldiers around him. It did not ease the pain he felt - physically or emotionally - but rekindling the fire kept him occupied. Sane.

That was until he caught a glimpse of Ves, her sleeping face contorted from the same haunting nightmare. Hellfire. 

War never slept.


	15. Fealty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 169: Obligation

“Send me.”

He ignored him, filtering through the scrolls on his desk, trying to find one unopened to occupy himself. Dammit, this wasn’t how a King should act, but he was in no damn mood to entertain his Commander’s lunacy. His fingers settled on the wrinkled, blood-stained letter from his informer in Kaedwen. Bloody Henselt. Since when did he have such ambitions?

“Send me,” Roche said louder. He once again refused to answer. “My Lord-”

“Roche, silence your tongue,” he snipped, irritated. “Your vows are to serve me, not ploughing piss me off.”

“I can-”

“You can’t.”

That was _final_.


	16. Bleed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 171: Color

Despite what he had said, it mattered. The cloth, the hue, even down to the damned stitching. Carmine would never feel right. He was born under a naval sky, one that drenched his soul. When he was cut, silver poured from his veins, the blood proud. 

He didn’t care for eagles or crowns, or a cursed, brass sun - not Gold; Nothing they touched would ever be that valuable. His skin was dyed with the outlines of deep midnight lilies and unless torn off, they would remain. He was Temerian.

He was a fool to assume he could switch out loyalties.


End file.
